This was evidently a superior kind of ball, for the men kept on their
coats, and went through the various figures with faces of unnatural
solemnity. But the strain upon their feelings was quite apparent, and it
became a question how long it could be maintained. As the trips through
the passage-way became more frequent the dancing grew in vigour and
hilarity, until by the time supper was announced the stiffness had
sufficiently vanished to give no further anxiety to the committee.

But the committee had other cause for concern, inasmuch as after supper
certain of the miners appeared with their coats off, and proceeded to
'knock the knots out of the floor' in break-down dances of extraordinary
energy. These, however, were beguiled into the bar-room and 'filled up'
for safety, for the committee were determined that the respectability of
the ball should be preserved to the end. Their reputation was at stake,
not in Black Rock only, but at the Landing as well, from which most of
the ladies had come; and to be shamed in the presence of the Landing
people could not be borne. Their difficulties seemed to be increasing,
for at this point something seemed to go wrong with the orchestra.
The 'cello appeared to be wandering aimlessly up and down the scale,
occasionally picking up the tune with animation, and then dropping it.
As Billy saw me approaching, he drew himself up with great solemnity,
gravely winked at me, and said--

'Shlipped a cog, Mishter Connor! Mosh hunfortunate! Beauchiful
hinstrument, but shlips a cog. Mosh hunfortunate!'

And he wagged his little head sagely, playing all the while for dear
life, now second and now lead.

Poor Billy! I pitied him, but I thought chiefly of the beautiful, eager
face that leaned towards him the night the League was made, and of the
bright voice that said, 'You'll sign with me, Billy?' and it seemed to
me a cruel deed to make him lose his grip of life and hope; for this is
what the pledge meant to him.

While I was trying to get Billy away to some safe place, I heard a
great shouting in the direction of the bar, followed by trampling and
scuffling of feet in the passage-way. Suddenly a man burst through,
crying--

'Let me go! Stand back! I know what I'm about!'

It was Nixon, dressed in his best; black clothes, blue shirt, red tie,
looking handsome enough, but half-drunk and wildly excited. The highland
Fling competition was on at the moment, and Angus Campbell, Lachlan's
bro